


vampires don't put down towels

by pugglemuggle



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: (everyone's an adult but like...vampires ya know), Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Domestic, Inspired by Art, M/M, Mother Hen Abe Takaya, Mutual Pining, Sportsfest 2018, basically it's just a bunch of useless gay domestic vampire fluff idk what to tell you, kinda sorta a What We Do in the Shadows AU?, oh no he's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 15:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16746847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugglemuggle/pseuds/pugglemuggle
Summary: After almost a hundred years of rooming with Tajima and Hanai, this is the first time they've had a human guest. Takaya isn't really sure what to do about it—especially when the human in question iscute.Or, Takaya is a vampire. Mihashi is mortal. They're not supposed to get involved with each other, but they do.





	vampires don't put down towels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [affectionateTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/affectionateTea/gifts).



> This story is a lightly edited of the [original version](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/7730.html?thread=2485298#cmt2485298) posted during SportsFest 2018. Tea ([affectionatetea](http://affectionatetea.tumblr.com/)) made some gorgeous vampire au fanart, which inspired me to write this fic, which inspired them to create more fanart inspired by this fic, so please enjoy their fabulous abemiha vampire art!!!
> 
>   * **[original vampire au fanart](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/11674.html?thread=2304922#cmt2304922)**
>   * **[illustrated scene from this fic](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/7730.html?thread=2495794#cmt2495794)**
> 

> 
> I definitely recommend checking out tea's fanart if you want more abemiha vampire au goodness! Tea is so talented, i die.
> 
> (Also, the title for this story is sort of taken from a What We Do in the Shadows quote, in case you were wondering.)

Getting involved with humans is always, _always_ a bad idea.

Takaya knows this. He’s been dead for over two hundred years, and in that time he’s collected more than enough cautionary tales to understand from experience that humans are trouble. No relationship with a mortal ever ends well. Takaya and his flatmates have long since sworn off attacking humans, but not all vampires in their social circle have made the same pledge. Accidents happen. And these accidents are often deadly.

But then Tajima showed up again at the flat for the first time in three years—and with him...

The boy stares at Takaya with wide, expressive eyes, brighter than any Takaya has seen in his entire existence. His cheeks are flushed, and his lips are pink with real, living blood. “Nice...nice to meet you,” the boy says. “I’m—I’m Mihashi Ren.”

This is going to be bad.

—

No one has used their kitchen for anything but rinsing out blood bags in at least a decade, and it’s been even longer since it was thoroughly cleaned. The whole place is embarrassing, frankly, and since Tajima is the one who brought in a guest, it’s supposed to be Tajima’s job to clean it up. But he won’t, Takaya knows. He’s not sure that Tajima has cleaned a kitchen once in his whole existence, living or dead. So Takaya puts on rubber cleaning gloves, takes out their ancient dish rag, and gets to work.

It takes him the better part of the night. After he’s finished, he begins clearing out most of the fridge. He’s almost done when he hears someone stomping down the stairs. It’s been three years, but he’d recognize Tajima’s heavy footfalls anywhere.

“It’s almost four in the morning,” Takaya says without looking away from the fridge. “The night’s almost over. Why are you only just now getting up?”

“Ugh, I’m still adjusting,” Tajima grumbles. Then he spies the rapidly accumulating stack of old blood bags Takaya is piling up in the trash. “Hey! Why are you throwing away my O-negative?”

“It expired a three years ago,” Takaya explains. “You’d get sick.”

Tajima frowns. “But O-negative is expensive...”

“Then don’t let it go bad.”

Tajima pouts for a moment longer, then asks, “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“Hm?”

“About making a good impression.”

As always, Tajima is too observant for his own good. “Our kitchen was revolting” Takaya says. “I just didn’t want your guest to die from some kind of disease by touching our counters.”

Tajima shrugs. “Whatever you say, Abe.”

The next day, when Mihashi finds him in the foyer and tries to thank him for cleaning, Takaya just shakes his head. “It needed to be cleaned anyway,” he says. “And Tajima wasn’t going to do it.”

“R-Right,” Mihashi murmurs.

—

The next evening, he wakes to find Mihashi stir-frying noodles over the stove. He sees egg, chicken, and some spices, but—

“No vegetables?” he says, peering over Mihashi’s shoulder. Mihashi yelps and turns around so fast that he almost knocks the pan off the stove.

“Abe-kun!” he exclaims, his eyes huge. Some of his hair is tied up at the back of his head in a ridiculously small ponytail—more of a rabbit tail, honestly—and as soon as Abe notices it, he does his best to ignore it.

“You’re human, so you need the nutrients from vegetables in your diet,” he says, staring resolutely at Mihashi’s frying pan. “This isn’t healthy.”

Mihashi nods at him uncertainly. “Um... yes. Next time—I’ll...I’ll add vegetables.”

“Good,” Takaya agrees.

He leaves the kitchen before Mihashi’s hair can distract him any more than it already has.

—

“Why is it so _warm_ in here?” Hanai complains early one morning, heading towards the thermostat. Takaya leaps out of the chair to stop him before he can ruin the settings.

“Don’t,” he says. “I set it.”

Hanai blinks. “ _You_ set it?” He looks back and forth between the thermostat and Takaya, then adds, “Aren’t you the one always saying that we shouldn’t waste money on heating because we’re dead? This is going to cost us a lot of money, you know.”

Before Takaya can answer him, Mihashi enters the room wearing an oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts, stretching his arms above his head. He smiles when he locks eyes with Takaya, and Takaya thinks that if he were still alive, he might’ve blushed.

“Good morning, Abe-kun,” Mihashi says. “Um...thank you for...changing the heating? Sleeping was... much easier.”

“Sleep is important,” Takaya says. “You need at least eight hours every night.”

Mihashi nods. It’s only then that he finally seems to spot Hanai over Takaya’s shoulder. “Hanai-kun! Um. Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Hanai replies. His eyebrow is raised as Mihashi ducks his head and heads to the kitchen, presumably to make himself some breakfast.

“So...” Hanai says.

“He’s our guest,” Takaya interrupts. “We need to be good hosts.”

He grabs his book and heads to bed before Hanai can interrogate him more.

—

“Abe! I found the first aid kit.”

“Good. Does it have bandages?”

“I think so? Hanai, help me look.”

“A-Abe-kun, I’m fine, really—”

“Found them!”

“Hand them to me.”

Takaya takes the the bandages Tajima holds out to him and turns back to Mihashi. There’s a gash on Mihashi’s finger where he cut himself chopping carrots, the blood dripping down his hand and onto the white kitchen tile.

“I’m fine,” Mihashi says again. “It’s not—it’s not as bad—”

“Give me your hand,” Takaya instructs. Mihashi relents and offers Takaya his hand, palm up.

Takaya sets about cleaning the wound and disinfecting it. Mihashi’s right—it doesn’t actually look as bad as he expected it to, what with all the blood—but it’s still deeper than an ordinary cut. He uses the bandage Tajima gave him and carefully dresses Mihashi’s finger. It’s only once he’s finished that he notices how everyone is staring at him.

“What?” he asks. No one says a word. Hanai and Tajima both look vaguely shocked, while Mihashi is positively beet red, his cheeks flaming as he bites his lip and blinks dazedly.

“Are you okay?” Takaya asks. Mihashi nods rapidly.

“Yes! I’m—um, thanks—Abe-kun, I, my shirt, I need, um, to change it...” he babbles, and then darts out of the room. Takaya stares after him, bemused.

“Impressive,” Hanai says eventually. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a vampire handle fresh blood that easily before.”

Takaya frowns at them. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah!” Tajima agrees, ignoring Takaya. “Even I was a little, you know, ‘Whoa!’ when I smelled it, but you seemed fine, dude.”

Takaya looks over at the bloody cloth on the counter, discarded after cleaning Mihashi’s cut. Now that the others have mentioned it, he can smell the blood, too—sweet, almost fruity perhaps, like strawberries and iron. His mouth waters a little—and then he shakes his head, snapping himself out of it.

“I didn’t have time to be distracted,” Takaya says. “Mihashi needed help.”

“Right...” Tajima says. He and Hanai share a look.

Takaya doesn’t want to stick around for a joint lecture. “I’ll be in my room,” he says, walking past them towards the hallway.

He doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

—

An hour or so later, there’s a soft, hesitant knock at his bedroom door. Takaya sets down his book and stands. “Come in.”

The door opens, and Mihashi peeks his head in. “Abe-kun? Can we, um, talk?”

“Sure.”

Mihashi steps the rest of the way into the room, and Takaya freezes.

Mihashi is wearing a gown.

And not just any gown—a black lacy one, like something straight out of a vintage vampire film. It’s the kind of Gothic style that permeates the entire flat, a style that up until now, Mihashi had been a point of contrast to. But not anymore. Now...now he fits.

Mihashi must notice him staring, because he flushes and picks at the fabric. “Tajima...he found it. There was, um. Blood on my shirt. So he said I could wear this.” His eyes flick up to meet Takaya’s for a moment, then look back down at the floor. “Do you like it...?”

“Yes,” Takaya says honestly before he can think to hold back his answer. He bites his lip immediately. Why did he say that?

Except, he can’t bring himself to regret the words, because right before his eyes, Mihashi’s face splits into a blinding smile, the likes of which Takaya has never seen in his entire two hundred and twenty-one years of existence. The smile is breathtaking, if Takaya had breath to take away, and it makes Takaya want to kiss him. Maybe he’s wanted to kiss him all along.

Everything seems to fall into place.

“I’m glad,” Mihashi murmurs. He walks forward slowly and reaches for Takaya’s hands, the warmth of his body heat seeping into Takaya’s cold palms. He never wants to let go.

“Mihashi,” he asks. “Can I kiss you?”

Mihashi doesn’t even hesitate. He nods, as if he’d known exactly what Takaya was going to ask. Maybe he had known. No one has ever commended Takaya for his subtlety.

Getting involved with a human is always a bad idea. Takaya knows this, but when he leans down and presses Mihashi’s warm lips against his own, it’s so, so easy to forget. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time, they’ll be alright.

No, not maybe, he decides. This time, they _will_ be alright. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure of it. He pulls Mihashi a little closer, presses their lips together a little harder, holds Mihashi’s hand a little tighter. He’ll be whatever Mihashi needs him to be.

His unbeating heart once again has purpose.

 


End file.
